//------------------------------// // Everypony Dies: The Flight Exam // Story: Depression is Tragic // by artistwithouttalent //------------------------------// “I’m sorry, Bullet, but I just can’t,” she finally said. “Not after…what happened.” It took her a lot of difficulty to finish her sentence, and were the situation less upsetting she would have been proud of herself. “OK. I totally understand, if it’s personal or something like that—“ “No!” Fluttershy said quickly. “It’s not that; I just don’t feel like much right now. It’s still tough to deal with.” “Oh,” Bullet replied. “OK. Well, if you need something, anything, I’m right down the hall. And I’m game for training anytime.” “OK,” Fluttershy replied, and with that, Bullet left. She thought about calling back to him, to take him up on his training offer; her skills most likely hadn’t improved in the time off. She stopped herself at the last minute, and slowly retreated into her room. ••• The day of her flight exam came, and looking back on her exchange with Bullet 3 days before, she felt that she really should have taken him up on his offer; it really had been that she hadn’t been willing to do anything since the accident with Mach, as opposed to interponial problems between them. “Cadets,” the sergeant barked out, “The fact that you are all here means that you passed your written exams, correct?” “Yes,” the class nodded. Fluttershy remembered it being exactly as Dash described it: “If you can breathe, stand on clouds, and have wings, you’ll pass.” “Good,” the instructor cooed. “Now I want you to tell me, what are your tasks, in order?” “Clear! Fly! Fall! Recover!” the class chanted. “Good,” he cooed again, “and what happens if that doesn’t happen?” “Failure!” the class chanted again. “And what happens if the judges lose sight of you?” he asked again in his smarmy voice. “Failure!” they chanted once more. “Now I want you to tell me,” the instructor said, slightly more menacingly, “are there any failures in this class?” “Sir, no, sir!” “I’m sorry, what was that?” “Sir, No, Sir!” “I CAN’T HEAR YOU! WHAT DID YOU SAY!?” “SIR, NO, SIIIRRRRRRRRRR!” “NOW GET OUT THERE AND MAKE ME PROUD!” “SIR, YES, SIR!” and with that the recruits proudly lined up for their tests. Fluttershy was slightly slower, but she made it before the first name was called. She had always hated the chants; she always thought they were too loud, and made everyone faceless. One thing that Bullet had forgotten to mention (which the director brought up as she got in line) was that, because of the incident, she was the last one to test, which for some reason made her more nervous. “Clear, fly, fall, recover,” was her every thought as the test slowly wound down. Before she could think, the instructor called out “Fluttershy!” She snapped out of her fixation on that thought, and called, “Yes, sir!” before beginning her ascent. She began fine, if a bit slow, and calmly cleared the skies. She then plodded to the hoops and began poking through them, when the director called out, “Come on, Cadet, we haven’t got all day!” She snapped into a frenzy and flew through the hoops as quickly as she could, which still wasn’t saying much, but was a marked improvement. She reached the height required, and centered her self “Alright, now all I have to do is—“ She looked down as she thought this last word, and found, in her sheer terror, that her wings had chosen to do the job for her. “FAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she cried out. After a few seconds of this, the instructor, who, like the other members of the assembled party, was visibly worried at this point, called out, “AND RECOVER, SHY, RECOVER!” She tried to hear what he was saying, but in her freefall, and fear, she couldn’t comprehend a word. She hit the ground and bounced harmlessly off, like anyone would. As she flew back to the lineup, hoping to Celestia the judges would give her the benefit of the doubt, she overheard one of the judges say her name, and whisper, “failure.” ••• After several hours of waiting, a colt with a Hooflyn accent walked up to her and asked “You Fluddashy?” “Yes, sir,” she replied, glumly. “Come wid me,” the colt said. “Gots a job for foals like you.” She followed him to a carriage where the other two test failees sat. The colt slammed the door and motioned for the drivers to take off. “Where are we going?” she called to the driver. The driver chuckled. “You’ll find out soon enough kid, don’t you worry.” ••• When the ponies arrived at their final destination, Fluttershy saw a familiar face. When it came time for her to go, she pleaded with this pony for mercy. The colt laughed and threw the lever. ••• As he stood there, a second-level security guard swore he heard high-pitch screaming from the room behind him. As he was about to open the door a smidge, just to take a peek, his co-guard, several years his senior, chided him. “Don’t do that,” the senior called. “You don’t want to know what they’re doin’ in there.”